Things are blooming around here. The garden is growing by leaps and bounds, every day bringing with it something new to notice. Two days ago, I took a few photos, since the sun was gorgeous and the garden felt lush and lovely. It would be wrong not to brighten your morning with gardening goodness, don’t you think?
Under the dwarf willow tree, the hyacinth’s are in full bloom, filling the air with their perfumy sweetness.
Elsewhere, the primroses are showing off with heavy clusters of neon-bright blooms clustered atop thin stalks. It’s as if the blooms are determined to stretch up their hands as high as possible in an effort to be noticed, like kids in a classroom throwing up their arms and waggling their hands and saying “Oh! Oh! Pick me! Pick me!”
Here and there and everywhere, a humbler bloom can be found: the forget-me-not. We’ve got blue ones and white ones, and I’ve been told the white ones we grow are native to Ontario but almost extinct now.
The bergamot, or bee balm, isn’t quite blooming yet, but when it does, the flowers are something otherworldly. I’ll have to remember to take another photo onces the gorgeous pineapple-shaped buds open up.
Over in a shady corner, the solomon’s seal is in bloom. It’s tall, gently curving stalks are covered in tidy rows of miniature bell-shaped flowers lined up two by two. B thinks they are almost as good as the heart-shaped bleeding heart blooms.
Safely nestled in the shade of the solomon’s seal, the Japanese painted fern is slowly uncurling it’s silver and purple fronds.
And under the Japanese painted fern lies this little beauty:
I can’t for the life of me remember what he is, but he runs rampant through the garden like a living mulch, crowding out weeds but oh-so-politely letting the perrenials grow strong and tall.
And last but definitely not least, the hostas are slowly unfurling. I’ve been looking at their robust spears for days and days and days, and we finally have leaves.
The garden, with all its ever-changing beauty, never fails to bring me peace and joy.